


Autumn Equinox

by Lynds



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Autumn, Gods, Holly King, Hurt Original Percival Graves, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oak King, POV Credence Barebone, Protective Credence Barebone, Wicca, battle for the seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: Not many people know that the ancient gods still battle for dominance of the world every equinox. Credence Barebone didn't. He certainly didn't expect to be caught up in one of these battles.





	Autumn Equinox

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluebeholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/gifts).



> Written as penance for blatant enabling ;)

The autumn wind blew through Credence’s hair, twisting the strands in its cold fingers and stroking the stress and anger of the day away from him, leaving nothing but peace. There was a damp in the air, dark clouds threatening rain, but he carried on walking, sucking blackberry juice off his thumb. 

The hedgerow fell away, and the footpath led into a fallow field, one massive tree standing in the middle. The wind seemed to centre there, kicking up leaves in a wild flurry. He frowned as he approached. At times it looked like there was something solid in among the flying detritus.

Then a man was hurled from the centre of the whirlwind, landing hard on the ground, air leaving his body in a gasp. Credence didn’t stop to think, just ran forwards. A second man stepped out of the maelstrom, leaves falling from his heavy coat, spiked hair unaffected, and as Credence watched in horror, drew back his leg and kicked the first man in the ribs. 

He stopped in disbelief. Where the hell had these guys even come from? But then the blonde man fisted the dark haired man’s coat and lifted him up, his other arm raised, and started punching him in the face, and Credence ran again, faster and faster, until he was crashing into the blonde guy with his shoulder, hurling him away. 

“What he hell are you doing? I’ll call the police!”

The blonde man stood up and faced Credence with a cruel smirk curling one side of his lips. Close up he could see his spiked hair had holly leaves almost embedded into it, no, almost growing out of his head. His coat was the deep purple of shadows on snow, and his sharp features had a bluish tint, like he was on the verge of hypothermia. “Have you found a mortal to fight your battles for you, Graves?” he asked. Credence shuddered as the voice spoke of predators and fear and cold fingers up his spine. The blonde man fingered his hair, adjusting the holly leaves, and they seemed to multiply, crowning his head. There were even little red berries showing now. Credence fought to control his breathing, keep his head and watch for danger. Figuring out the weird shit could come later. “No matter,” said the man. “The power passes to me now. Until we meet again, Graves.” He looked right at Credence, and one eyebrow raised, suggestive, a threat. “Mortal.”

And then he disappeared. Credence’s mouth dropped open and he blinked. The man was gone. He’d been there, all creepy with his holly crown, and then he was gone, leaving the air colder behind him. He stared around the field, refusing to accept a whole human could just disappear into thin air.

Movement behind him made him jump and turn. He’d forgotten the black haired man, who was now struggling to sit up, nose bleeding. Shaking freaky blonde guy from his head, Credence knelt down next to him. “Hey, don’t move, let me check you for broken ribs.”

“I’m fine,” the man said, pushing his hands away and pinching his nose. He was also covered in leaves, and Credence brushed a couple from his hair. “Hey!”

“Sorry, you’ve just got leaves in your hair.”

“Well, I should hope so,” grumbled the man. “The oak crown doesn’t disappear that quickly.”

“Oak crown? Look, man, what the hell’s going on here? Who was that guy? Why were you fighting? Should I call the police?”

The man chuckled and looked up at him with a lopsided smile, and Credence’s heart beat double time. Under the blood and mud his face crinkled into beautiful lines, and his eyes were warm as the summer sun. “I don’t think the police would believe you.” He struggled to his feet, wincing, and Credence slipped one hand under his arm to help him up, trying not to be too obvious about breathing in the smell of apples and hot grass.

“Come on,” he said. “My house is just a couple of fields away, I’ll clean you up and you can stay as long as you need. You can use my phone, get someone to pick you up or whatever.”

The man stared at him, his face completely slack in surprise. “You…have you any idea what you’ve just done?”

“Uh, yes? I think?”

He frowned. “Do you know who I am, mortal?”

Credence’s anxiety, which had been battering on his internal defences, trying to get him to really take notice of all the weird shit, flared up again. “Mortal?”

The man straightened up, his chin raised, and the air around him seemed to change, a warm zephyr bringing with it memories of pink skin, butterflies and honey sweetness, crickets singing in the dry grass. The rounded leaves in his hair, which had been looking a bit limp and brown, flared into a waxy green, acorns lush and round swelling around his temples. “I am the Oak King, Lord of the Summer. To invite me into your home is to invite me into your life, pledge your allegiance. You have made me your own.”

Credence's eyes widened. Deep inside he felt he should have been terrified, but instead he felt drawn towards this man, his heart and soul aligned to him like a compass to the north.

Then the man’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed his crinkling forehead. The warmth dissipated, the oak leaves shrivelled, and he looked smaller somehow. “Go on, child. You tried to save me. You did save me - Grindelwald’s beatings are usually much worse, the bastard. You didn’t know - just…go on. Get out of here. I release you.”

He waved him off and turned to go. Credence didn’t allow himself to think too much. He touched his arm, holding gently to the crook of his elbow until the man turned. “What do I call you?” he asked. “If I’m going to be fixing up the God of Summer or whatever. If I'm going to…pledge allegiance.”

It was his turn to stare, all his power falling away to leave a sweet vulnerability that made Credence smile. The warmth spreading through his heart may have been the traces of Summer, or they might have been happiness.

“Percival Graves,” he said. “My name is Percival.”


End file.
